


Take Me Back To The Beginning When I Was Young

by Cozy_coffee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Character Death, Community: comment_fic, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 09, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-02
Updated: 2010-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/pseuds/Cozy_coffee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for the comment_fic prompt; any, any, Sometimes I wish I was a little child again... hurting knees are easier to heel as a broken heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me Back To The Beginning When I Was Young

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lillian_r](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillian_r/gifts).



Sammy walked into Uncle Bobby’s house, sucking his thumb and holding his stuffed fluffy bunny rabbit with the missing eye. He sniffled as he tried to hold back the tears dampening his hazel eyes. He’d been playing outside with Rumsfeld, chasing the loveable Rottweiler, when he ended up getting a boo-boo. 

He’d been getting a lot of boo-boo lately; he was an adventurous little boy who wanted to climb the tallest trees and scale the highest hills. He wanted to be big and strong and brave, like his brother. As it turned out, chasing after an energetic dog on a zigzag sidewalk lined with pebbles, cracks and holes, while wearing shoes with laces that easily came undone, didn’t mix. With scraps on his knees, Sam walked over to his brother, sniffling. “Dee…” 

Looking up from the gun he was cleaning, Dean’s heart splintered a tiny bit when he saw Sammy with tears in his eyes and blood on his knees—the young boy was even missing a shoe. “Sammy, what happened, buddy?” 

Sam’s bottom lip trembled as he whimpered, “I was chasing Rumsfeld and I tripped. Dee…I lost my shoe.” Tears started streaking his dimpled cheeks. He sniffled, looking like a sad little lost puppy. 

“Sammy, don’t cry. Shh,” Dean cooed softly as he wrapped his arms around Sam, hugging him gently. His brother clung to him, crying into his chest as he hugged his stuffed bunny rabbit. Dean kissed both of Sammy’s cheeks and wiped his tears away before picking him up and setting him on the table. “How about I patch you up and then I will make us some lunch and we can sit on the couch and watch cartoons. How’s that sound, Sammy?” 

Like magic, the pain was gone, and those cute little dimples creased Sammy’s cheeks as he smiled brightly. Dean grinned fondly and leaned forward, nuzzling Sam’s nose to give his little brother an Eskimo kiss.

Sammy giggled and hugged Dean, whispering, “I love you, Dee.” 

“I love you too, Sammy.”

After Dean returned from hell Sam's body has many new scars he has to get used to. Scars that were not there when he left this world. He doesn’t turn Sam away, but instead, comfort him, keep his brother safe in his heart. 

They were lying in bed, both wrapped up in each other’s arms, warm and content. It was a rare moment for them, one of love, devotion and kindness; a time when the world wasn’t coming apart at the seams. Dean had been topside for a few weeks but he still remembered Hell; all the blood and death, darkness, and wickedness. 

However, now, all the evilness was hidden in the shadows. It was only him and Sam, and the tender love they shared. It was in that moment of closeness that Dean noticed the wounds on Sam’s wrist—three cuts, lying vertically along his skin. 

At first, Dean didn’t think anything of it. Hunting was a dangerous gig. He chalked it up to a typical injury. Yet when his eyes focused on the cuts, he could tell the wounds were self-inflicted. They were clean and neat, a straight cut, almost surgical. They weren’t jagged or rough like a wound Sam might have gotten from a werewolf or a black dog, or a wendigo. A cut from being tossed around like a ragdoll. 

Dean took Sam’s wrist, holding it gently, noticing how Sam’s entire body went still. “You hurt yourself again, didn’t you?” 

This wasn’t the first time Dean had caught Sam harming himself—it had happened many times over the years. Sam started cutting when he was a teen, and it had been a darkness that followed him all his life. Dean still remembered the night Sam tried to take his own life, the first time him and the old man nearly came to blows after Sam declared he wanted a normal life. Dean found Sammy lying on the bathroom floor, bleeding from both wrists. Dad had called an ambulance, and Dean sat with his brother, begging Sam to hold on. His brother’s breathing was shallow, and there was blood, so much blood, everywhere. 

“Stay with me, Sammy. Please,” Dean had begged with tears in his eyes. “You can’t die, you can’t leave me.” 

Sam made a full recovery, and for a long time after that, he didn’t cut himself. But old wounds have a way of opening back up and he started doing it again after Dean was taken to Hell. Sam never cut deep enough to risk his life; he only cut enough to bleed out the pain. 

Now Dean knew the truth, and it made him hug Sam even tighter. He looked at Sam’s wrist closer, and he could see the older wounds, paler one; evidence of his past pain. 

Sam hid his face in Dean’s neck, clinging tighter to his brother. “You were in Hell, you left me alone. I…I couldn’t handle the fact that you were gone. It was too painful. I had to bleed it out.” 

Dean closed his eyes and hugged Sam tighter, and then he leaned in and brushed his lips against Sam’s wrist. They would have to talk about this; Dean had come back from Hell to find Sam’s body marked with new scars…wounds he would have to get used to. Together, they would have to find a way to keep Sam from harming himself. But later; not now. 

All they had now was each other, and Sam wasn’t going to hurt himself again. Not now that Dean was back…not on his watch. And threw the years the cuts were held at bay, even when things where as dark as night. The love they shared, even when the relationship seemed broken past repair, kept Sam safe. 

He does his best to shelter his brother all his life, yet the day came when it was him who needed saving. 

Now all Sam heard was Dean’s ragged breath as his brother fought to breathe. Fresh blood covered Dean’s lips and mouth. He could barely breathe and yet he still found the breath to whisper, “I got to say something to you.” 

Sam held his older sibling upright, his eyes searching Dean’s as he asked, “What?” 

Dean’s hand rested on Sam’s shoulder, but as he began to speak he moved it to cradle Sam’s cheek. Their eyes never left each other’s, green upon hazel. “I’m proud of us.” 

Tears came to Sam’s eyes as he looked into his big brother’s fading green eyes, seeing the light burning out. Dean’s hand fell from Sam’s face as he took his last breath. His eyes closed, his heart stopped, and he fell into his younger brother’s embrace.   
Sam gasps softly, “No, no. Hey, hey, hey. Hey, wake up, buddy.” He palmed Dean’s bloody cheeks as tears dampen his eyes. He gently shook Dean, praying, willing his brother to stay with him. “Hey. Dean…Dean!” No heartbeat, no breath. His big brother was gone from this world, leaving him behind.

Tears feel down Sam’s cheeks as he broke down crying, his heart shattering into tiny pieces. He pulled Dean to his chest and cradled him, holding him tightly as he sobbed heart-wrenching cries that echoed in the warehouse. 

♥ END ♥

**Author's Note:**

> [Written for this prompt!](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/205597.html?thread=43863069#t43863069)


End file.
